


The Five Senses

by Zoe1078



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 01:41:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7079404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoe1078/pseuds/Zoe1078
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A response to a tumblr prompt for some S2E8 (The Fox’s Lair) smut, but not in the obvious place. Very NSFW, with no redeeming plot whatsoever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Five Senses

"So, will I be allowed to join you at dinner tonight?"

Jamie turned from the fireplace. "Oh, aye. My grandsire's no' opposed to a bit of decoration at the dinner table, as long as that decoration doesna speak." At my wordless, irritated sigh, he teased, "Aye. Just like that." He held out his hand. "Now come along."

I slapped my hand into his, and he pulled me off the bed. “I’m to be seen but not heard, is that right?”

Rather than immediately lead me from the room, he laughed at my expression and added, “It doesna matter, Sassenach. With that glass face of yours, everyone will ken what you’re thinking, and ye willna have to say a word.”

I narrowed my eyes and asked, “So what am I thinking right now, Mr. Fraser?”

Abruptly, he tugged me against him with a smirk. “That you can hardly bear to suffer fools, Sassenach, including the one before ye. Lucky for me, I’m your husband, and ye must. You have no choice.” Before I could fire back a retort, he kissed me in a manner that made my annoyance vanish. It was teasing and playful, and when he began to pull away, I didn’t feel like stopping, certainly not to sit through an interminable meal with the Lord Lovat, so I nipped at his lower lip to stop him. A pleased sound vibrated from Jamie’s throat. “Ah, see? You need no words at all to say what you mean.”

I decided to play along. If he was going to make me sit through dinner with the bitter old man, I was going to make it as uncomfortable for Jamie as it was for me, albeit in an entirely different way. I threaded my fingers through his hair to keep him close, then began to lick at the lips I’d just bitten. Jamie responded exactly as I’d hoped, returning my attentions with surprised enthusiasm. Eventually he lowered his hands from my waist to my buttocks and brought our bodies even closer. He let out a little growl, and I squirmed against him, feeling his body’s response against my stomach even through the layers of my dress and his kilt. 

As our kiss deepened, he pushed me back toward the bed. We separated briefly as I sat down, but when he leaned down to join me, I placed my hand against his chest. “Stop.”

He smirked at me. “Don’t you remember? You’re supposed to be seen but no’ heard.”

I pretended to oblige him and silently mouthed a false  _ Sorry, _ but still pushed him to stand straight with one hand. With the other, I ran my fingertips along the outside of his thigh and under his kilt. Now he realized what I was doing and decided to help, obligingly holding the fabric up. 

Just as I’d thought, he was more than ready. With a little smirk, I took him in hand and, with a light touch, began to stroke. Up and down, up and down. I alternated between tracing his prominent veins and the corona, and I used the warmth of my palms to envelop him. I cradled the heavy weights between his thighs, and I teased the sensitive skin just behind them. All the while, I watched Jamie’s face, and he watched mine. I noticed when the corners of his eyes crinkled with happiness, when his lips parted so he could take in more air, and when he licked his lips in an unconscious gesture implying what he wanted me to do. I obliged him with a soft kiss, and then I gave him a little brush of my tongue. For a while, I could still peer up and see him, enjoying his reactions. While I swirled around his sensitive head, his eyes slipped shut. When I laved at his shaft with the flat of my tongue, he began to clench his jaw. But when I bent my head to take him into my mouth, I couldn’t see his face any longer. Instead, I listened to his harsh breathing and felt his hands on my skull. He didn’t push or pull, or grab my hair, but I knew he wanted to. As a reward for his restraint, I gripped at his base and began to bob and suck in tandem with the movement of my hand. Jamie let out a strangled Gaelic curse, and I couldn’t help but laugh around him.

Soon Jamie reached the point where he needed me to stop before it was too late. "Claire, I want ye." I didn't listen to him, though. When he tried to step back, I simply grabbed the back of his thigh to hold him still and moved with him. "Claire, no' this way. I need to be inside you, between your legs." But I still wouldn't listen. I redoubled my efforts, took a deep breath through my nose, and brought him deep into my throat.

With a wordless groan, he gave himself over to me, so I responded with a moan of my own and worked at him with all the skills I possessed. Soon he was shaking with the effort not to lose control.

Just when I had him exactly where I wanted him, I pulled away. Jamie looked down at me with a grin, fully expecting me to lay back and open myself to him. Instead I stood and smoothed my skirts while his expression turned bewildered. I pulled a handkerchief from his sporran, dabbed at my lips, and nodded toward the door. Then I slipped around him and made my way to the exit, wondering what he'd do. Either he'd stop me and we would both be satisfied, or we would suffer through a frustrating meal together. Surely I'd pay the price afterward, and gladly. 

Jamie chose the former and grabbed me by the elbow before I made it to the hall. "Where do you think you're going?" he growled.

I pointed toward the hallway and feigned an innocent expression. "We’re late for…"   
  
He cut me off. “No. I told ye that here, you should learn to be quiet and to obey. And that's exactly what you'll do. Now come here." He whirled me around, bent me backward at the waist, and attacked my mouth with a harsh kiss. I had to cling to him for balance and breath, finally gasping when he broke away to add, “As I said, ye shall be seen but no’ heard. I want to see you. All of you. Take off your clothes.”

His expression was dark in a way that thrilled me, and I didn’t hesitate to comply, though Jamie made it difficult for me to maneuver as he continued to kiss his way along my jaw and throat. I managed to take off my dress and bumroll, but he couldn’t wait for me to methodically undo the laces of my corset. He nearly ripped the material trying to get if off me.

When it lay on the floor, he led me around the bed to stand in front of the mirror. I tried to kiss him, but he turned me to face my reflection. Standing behind me, he placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed my shift down to pool on the floor. “Look at yourself, Claire. See what I see.” As I watched, he kissed the shell of my ear, down my neck, and across my shoulder. He ran his hands down my arms and brought my fingers to his lips, kissing each one of them, and then placed his hands on my breasts. As he cupped them in his palms, he murmured, “You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,  _ mo nighean donn.”  _ Then he bore me down onto the bed.

I was surprised when he hesitated. His eyes raked up and down my form, naked but for my stockings. “Aye,” he muttered. “Ye are quite the sight, indeed, Sassenach.” Then he knelt between my legs, but he didn’t move closer. “I want to see more. Show me.”

I didn’t understand. “Jamie? What do you…”

“Hush,” he interrupted. He placed one large hand on my thigh at the edge of my stocking and ran a calloused thumb along the skin, drawing up goose pimples. “Seen, but no’ heard. And felt.” Then he kissed my inner thigh, a little closer to where I wanted him. “So soft,” he whispered. He made his way to my center, nuzzling gently with his nose. “Smelt, but no’ heard.” He inhaled deeply and said, to himself more than to me, “Ahh, you want me as much as I want you, do ye now?” 

Before I could answer, I felt his warm, heavy breath against my skin, and then he used his hands to part my flesh. His voice was low, so low that I felt his next words vibrating against my skin more than I heard them. “And tasted. Tasted, but no’ heard.” His tongue dipped inside me, and I arched toward him with a cry.

Jamie immediately moved away. With a wicked smirk, he wagged his finger at me. “No, Claire. Silence, ken?” I closed my lips and nodded, not wanting to give him any excuse to stop, and he grinned devilishly at me. He reached for one of my hands and dragged it down to my sex, then repeated, “Now show me.”

What did he mean? I couldn’t ask him, and he hadn’t said. Heat rose into my cheeks as I tentatively used my fingers to do what he had done earlier, and I opened my lips to him. Whether this was what he wanted, I didn’t know, but he seemed pleased enough. “Good lass,” he murmured, then dipped one finger into my body.

Once more, I forgot his instructions and moaned, “Jamie!”

He immediately withdrew his hand, shaking his head. “You’ve forgotten already. You’ll be quiet now, won’t ye?”

I nodded wordlessly, and he kissed me deeply. 

Then he began to touch me again, murmuring in my ear about what I felt like. At first he used just one finger, probing and stroking gently inside me. His other hand rested on my thigh, squeezing rhythmically. He moved slowly, deliberately, and I struggled with the attempt to stay silent, for I knew that he would stop as soon as I made a sound. I wanted to beg him for more, more than the single, teasing finger that left me aching. All I could do was writhe my hips and pant in desperation. I grabbed at his skull with my free hand and kissed him fiercely, using lips and teeth and tongue without words. He knew what I meant, what I wanted, and he whispered in my ear, “If you want more, you can.”

I tried to tug up his kilt to get at him, but he pushed me back down. “Not that, not yet.” Then he slid his thick finger back inside me. But he didn’t move his hand.

I wanted Jamie to touch me, not to touch myself, but he wasn’t giving me any choice. I slowly began to undulate my hips, creating friction between my body and his hand, and he smiled down at me. It was good, it was better, but it wasn’t enough. He read my frustrated expression and asked, “More? Do you want more?”

I nodded furiously, but instead of helping me, he withdrew his hand and held it to my lips. “I want you to know what I know,  _ mo chridhe.  _ Taste yourself, smell yourself, the essence of you that drives me mad.” Then he slipped the finger into my mouth. I licked at it tentatively at first, unused to my own flavor, but when I saw the effect this had on Jamie, I began to suckle at his finger just as I had sucked at his cock. He must have been thinking the same thing I was, because his eyes momentarily slipped shut while he groaned. 

Soon, however, he recovered, and he stepped back from me entirely. “You’re making me lose myself, Claire. I’d almost forgotten. What’s left? Do you know what ye feel like, so soft in my hands?” My heart thumped in my chest, and I finally did what he wanted. I tentatively placed my hands on my stomach, and he urged me on. “Aye. Fine as opals, soft as feathers. Now your breast.” I obeyed and moved one hand to cup myself, and he nodded. “That’s right. Heavy and warm.” He leaned down to take the other in his own large hand, and he kneaded gently. Then he started to stroke my sensitive nipple with his finger. It hardened under his touch. “Does it feel good? It does, doesn’t it?” I nodded, and he urged me, “You too. Do what ye like.” And I began to roll the other peak between my thumb and forefinger. 

“Ah, Sassenach,” he breathed. Then he pushed my hands away and fell upon my breasts with his lips and hands. In between delicate licks and gentle suckling, he told me, “You taste so good. Salty and sweet.” 

I was slowly losing my mind. I was forgetting everything, where we were, why we were here. When his teeth closed over my peak, I begged him, “Please,” and he abruptly stopped. 

It took him a moment. He was as caught up in our actions as I was, but he shook his head briefly, and when he looked down at me again, the wry grin had settled back into place. “Sassenach, ye ken you’re supposed to stay silent. Now, I willna help ye. You’ll have to do it yourself.” With that, he took my by the wrist and firmly guided my hand toward my core. 

I had to close my eyes. I had never done this in front of anyone, and I couldn't look at him and keep my nerve. So I turned my head away, swallowed hard, and began to touch myself. It was impossible to stop my hand from trembling, but it didn’t matter. I circled a single finger where Jamie had refused to touch me earlier, slowly at first, and then with an increasing pace. It felt good. Not as good as Jamie’s hands, but very good. 

He took a sharp intake of breath, and I heard a rustle of fabric. My curiosity overcame my embarrassment, and I opened my eyes to look at him. He was palming his own sex through his kilt. When he saw me looking at him, he moved his hand to cover mine, and he guided my fingers down. When he spoke, his voice was as rough as sandpaper. “Inside. Feel how soft ye are inside.”

I didn’t want to, not because I was embarrassed, since that feeling had dissipated like mist, but because I wanted him to touch me. I wanted him inside me, his hand, his tongue, his cock. But I knew that the second I asked for it, he would pull away. The quickest way to get what I wanted was to comply. So with an involuntary gasp, I slipped two fingers inside my own body. 

Now Jamie cried out, not me. As I began to move my hand, he gave in to his desire as I gave in to mine. He tore off his jacket, yanked off his belt and tossed it away with a clunk, and dropped his kilt to the floor. And finally, finally, he grabbed my wrists, pinned them over my head with one hand, and slammed inside me with a single thrust, calling out my name. 

At first he held his hips still, and I revelled in the sensation of being filled so completely. We devoured each other, using lips, tongue, and teeth in equal measure. He drew blood from my lip, so I broke free of his grip and raked my nails down his back, and the tang of iron laced the scent of sex that hung heavy in the air. Then he buried his face in my neck, slid one hand underneath me to hold me still, and began to fuck me, slow and hard.

The deliberate, careful rhythm didn’t last. After teasing and taunting each other so long, neither of us could control ourselves for long. Soon he reared up on his knees, grabbed me by the hips, and started to pull me bodily onto his cock as he speared me. Each thrust was as deep as the one before, and every time, he reached something inside me that took my breath away.

He felt incredible. I felt incredible. I couldn’t think of anything but Jamie, couldn’t see anything but his face, his body, couldn’t hear anything but his groans in my ear, couldn’t taste anything but his essence on my tongue, couldn’t smell anything other than his spicy sweat in my nose, couldn’t feel anything but his hot flesh pressing against mine and his cock moving deep inside my body. 

Eventually Jamie pulled me off my back and onto his lap. He held firm to my buttocks to keep me in place and started to grind into me. He said something in Gaelic, and it sounded like both a promise and a plea. I didn’t know what it was, but the words sank through my skin and settled in my heart. It set off a chain reaction that started in my sex, shot up my spine, and radiated outward across my skin. 

I couldn’t stay silent any longer, and Jamie knew it. “Claire, God, let me hear ye!”

In answer, I screamed his name. It was now the only word left to me, just as he was the only other person filling my world, filling my soul. Overcome, I gave myself over to the pleasure, to my husband, to my Jamie, to my love, and I carried him with me. Together we shattered. The little shards of our individual selves swirled together, and when we formed once more, we were one.

After a time, I came to awareness, urged awake by a light shaking beneath me. I was cradled on Jamie’s chest, and he stroked my hair as he chuckled. “What is it?” I asked.

Perceptively, he asked, "You got exactly what you wanted, didn't you?”

I buried my smile into his skin. “And without having to say a word.”

His chuckle turned to a full blown laugh, and he squeezed me tight. “Ah, I do love ye, my Claire.” 

“And I love you.” I settled back into his chest and nearly fell asleep before I realized, “We’re late for dinner, aren’t we?”

 


End file.
